The Almighty Dominance (by Sunshine) novel Chapter 375

Florence stormed up to Alex, her face twisted with rage, voice trembling on the edge of a scream.

“You hit Madam Henny first, you idiot! You handed her the perfect excuse to come after us! This all started because of you!”

She stabbed her finger toward the inferno raging outside, the flames painting her face in violent orange.

“Look at that mansion—burning to the ground! Why is this happening to us? Because of you!”

“We got stabbed because of you! Ever since you walked into our lives, nothing good has happened to us—nothing!”

Alex lifted an eyebrow, calm in the face of her fury. The truth was, if he hadn’t stepped in, Florence and Jack would already be dead.

And as for “nothing good”… well, thanks to him, Sophia now wore the title of Governor of Paris.

But she wasn’t entirely wrong—Henny had plenty of reasons to want revenge, and yes, one of them was him.

Florence’s glare was like a blade. “Now our mansion is gone. You’d better give me that money, or I swear—I’ll chase you to my last breath. I’ll trade my life if that’s what it takes to hunt every dollar down.”

Alex studied her in silence.

This wasn’t just about greed—this was obsession.

Florence would pursue him until one of them was dead, willing to gamble her own life if it meant getting her hands on the money.

“Mom,” Sophia stepped in.

“Alex doesn’t have that kind of money. You know who he is. Where’s he supposed to get five million dollars? Be reasonable.”

“Reasonable?” Jack limped in, bandages wrapping half his body. He smirked through the pain.

“This man’s the famous boy toy of Jasmine Kingston. How can you say he’s broke? He’s got everything Kingston has.”

“Watch your mouth, Jack,” Sophia snapped.

“Oh, come on, Sophia,” Florence cut in, eyes glinting.

“Everyone knows. He’s Kingston’s kept man. No need to hide it. Now hand over the money.”

Alex had been considering giving Florence the golden mansion he rarely used—worth a hundred times more than the one she’d lost.

But looking at these two—faces twisted with greed—he changed his mind in an instant.

Fine. Let them have what they really wanted.

Five million dollars? That was pocket change to him—worth less than a single miracle pill.

Still, they’d just lost their chance at a golden mansion because they couldn’t keep their greed in check.

“Mother, enough,” Sophia said, her patience fraying.

“I’m moving to Paris. It’s closer to my work. You should all just follow me.”

“Fine,” Florence said coldly, “but not until I get my five million.”

“Mom—” Sophia began, but Alex cut her off.

“Whatever. Five million it is. I’ll transfer it to your account tomorrow.”

The three of them froze, stunned.

“What? Why are you shocked?” Alex asked, almost bored.

“Do you really have that kind of money?” Sophia asked carefully.

“Of course,” Jack sneered before Alex could answer. “He gets paid every time he sleeps with Jasmine.”

Alex ignored him. “Lyra owes me that much.”

“Lyra?”

“You remember the Guise fights I entered? I placed a winning bet, and Lyra’s holding my payout. Tell her I want five million from it.”

Alex knew Lyra had already taken the money from the Guise family—they were the house in those fights.

Even though the family was gone, the corporation managing their debts had either already paid her or was under her control.

And Alex knew one thing for certain about Lyra—she never swallowed a loss.

Jack barked a laugh. “Betting fight? You mean you fought Lyra in bed too, and she’s gotta pay you for that? Damn, Alex, I didn’t know you were such a hit with the upper class.”

Alex’s gaze sharpened, but before he could speak, Florence sneered.

The elders exchanged tense glances.

Lyra Thompson was on a warpath, hunting down every debt owed to her.

Henny—the leader of the opposition—was now disgraced beyond repair. No one could stop what was coming.

“I agree,” one elder said at last. Then another. Then another. One by one, they voiced their support.

“This is the only way to save the Montclair family,” an elder muttered.

In the end, all agreed—except for one.

“I don’t agree,” Betty said, shattering her own earlier stance.

The room froze. Shock rippled across the table.

“Before, some of you stood with Henny and treated me like garbage,” Betty said coldly.

“Now I’ll give you two choices. One: leave the Montclair family forever. Two: get on your knees and beg me for forgiveness.”

Five of the twelve elders turned pale. They were the ones who had openly opposed her before.

“Betty, don’t push your luck,” one elder warned.

“Push my luck?” Betty’s lip curled in a sneer.

“I could just tell my granddaughter Sophia to walk away from this sinking ship altogether. She’s already acting Governor of Paris. And some states are ready to push her to become the real Governor.”

Everyone knew Sophia was the only one who could keep this sinking ship afloat.

And every Montclaire elder in the room knew the truth—no one ever simply walked away from the family.

The only way out was in a coffin. Walking away meant being hunted until death.

Betty’s eyes gleamed with cold cruelty. “Now… get on your knees and kiss my feet.”

In that moment, they understood—Betty Montclair was not a woman to be trifled with.

She was ruthless to the bone.